


The Shit That I've Done With This Fuck Of A Gun

by KilljoyWhoDied



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Gun Kink, Gunplay, Kinks, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Party Poison, Other, Sexual Coercion, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Transgender, although to be honest, dubcon, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 23:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19896184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilljoyWhoDied/pseuds/KilljoyWhoDied
Summary: ‘Good kitty’, Fun says appreciatively, reaching down to push Party Poison’s red hair out of their face. ‘Look at me.’In which everyone's favourite Killjoys do some pretty questionable stuff.





	The Shit That I've Done With This Fuck Of A Gun

**Author's Note:**

> A word of warning and a word of advice: this is kinky and this goes pretty heavy on dubious consent / non-consensual stuff, coercion and whatnot. If that is even remotely triggering for you, please please stay away.
> 
> Smutfic with trans characters in it is always walking a thin line between representation and fetishisation, so I figured I'd let you know, I'm nonbinary and trans myself, not a cis person living out their trans fantasies. I tagged it as M/M as well so people can find it when they search for Party/Fun but mostly the ‘Other’ tag applies, since there is no tag for nonbinary relationships.

With a loud bang, the door of the gas station falls shut behind Kobra Kid and Jet Star and suddenly it’s just Party Poison standing guard outside, waiting for Fun Ghoul to come back from wherever he hid the car.

Everything is so silent out in the zones, the sound of their pacing can probably be heard all the way to Battery City, Party Poison thinks.

The sense of imminent danger causes them to turn around. A hit to the stomach takes away their air for a moment, their gun being wrestled from their hand before they can even release the safety. Another shove to the chest sends them tumbling towards the ground.

‘Missed me much?’, Fun Ghoul’s voice cuts through the haze covering Party’s eyes while they struggle to breathe.

‘The fuck was that for?’, Party angrily demands while getting up and shooting a deadly stare in Fun’s direction. ‘Are you nuts?’

‘Careful there’, Fun says, and suddenly his voice is two octaves lower and a few magnitudes more authoritative. He tosses Party’s gun aside and points his own at them. ‘Knees. Now.’

Party nervously swallows and backs away a few steps. Fun remains completely calm while he releases the safety and aims the weapon at Party’s head. ‘I said: on your knees, slut.’

Party Poison carefully raises their hands above their head while slowly kneeling down in front of Fun Ghoul. They don’t dare look up as Fun steps closer, keeping his gun trained at Party’s head until the muzzle touches their forehead. A little whine escapes their lips as Fun traces his gun over their face, until the barrel presses against their lips ever so slightly. ‘Open up.’

Obediently, Party opens their mouth. Their heart beats even faster when Fun pushes his gun deeper inside and orders them to suck on it. Their breathing gets heavier as the barrel of the gun goes deeper and deeper into their mouth when Fun Ghoul starts to rhythmically push it in and out. The polished steel smoothly slides between their lips as the weapon fills their mouth.

‘Good kitty’, Fun says appreciatively, reaching down to push Party Poison’s red hair out of their face. ‘Look at me.’

Trembling, Party looks up, their lips still wrapped around the barrel of Fun’s gun. The other killjoy’s hand is still in their hair, slowly but surely guiding their head to take the weapon deeper into their mouth. Party’s eyes widen and they give a muffled moan as the muzzle enters their throat, trying to pull away. The hand in their hair grabs them harder, yanking their head and shoving the gun all the way down Party’s throat until they gag and make choking noises as the metal hits the back of their throat.

‘Ah-ah, no stopping, kitty’, Fun mocks them, pulling the gun out for a second, allowing them to breathe. Spit drips from their lips as they gasp for air. ‘You don’t get to stop till I’m done with you, so hold still and keep sucking.’ He pushes the pistol back into Party’s mouth, slowly cocking the trigger halfway, and looks at them expectantly until they start sucking again. A single tear rolling down their cheek, Party begins to bop their head up and down again, anxiously looking up at Fun Ghoul’s face, the man staring off into the distance as Party wet the barrel with their saliva once more.

The black-haired killjoy suddenly pushing his gun into his partner’s mouth is the last straw and the tears start flowing from Party’s eyes as they choke and pull back, strands of spit between them and the muzzle. This time, Fun Ghoul allows them to stop sucking and pushes his gun against their temple instead. With his other hand, he reaches down to unbutton his pants, unzip the fly, and as if that wasn’t obvious enough, the little smirk on his face makes it blatantly obvious what he expects Party to do.

The redhead’s hands are shaking as they pull Fun’s pants down and close their hand around the man’s cock. Hesitantly, they look up for confirmation, painfully aware of the muzzle of the gun pressed against their skull, before slowly opening their mouth again and taking the tip of the other Killjoy’s dick in. Not daring to stop, they begin to move their head up and down, covering it with spit as it slides in and out between their lips. Fun makes an appreciative noise, lightly nudging his hips forward telling them to go deeper, emphasising his point by letting the gun wander over Party’s face until the barrel rests on their cheek, staying there for a moment, before moving on towards their forehead.

‘Guys’, Jet Star calls from inside the station, ‘do we need spare headlight bulbs?’

The Trans-Am only has so much space for cargo, with the four of them squeezed in, and they can’t afford to carry around things they don’t need.

Fun freezes, then in one swift motion puts his gun away and pushes Party’s head against his crotch, gagging them on his cock to keep them silent. ‘It’s fine’, he yells back, ‘I nicked some from that store last week.’

Jet replies with an unintelligible grunt of agreement and disappears back into the station without poking his head out the door. The tension in Fun’s shoulders relaxes, the man’s hand still firmly gripping Party’s hair, the kneeling Killjoy choking on the cock in their throat, frantically struggling to stop gagging, spit running out of their mouth and dripping onto Fun’s boots and pants. It’s a mess and the black-haired guerrilla visibly enjoys the view, pushing in, forcing their length even deeper between Party’s lips. Party is crying again, looking up at him, panicking, silently begging, trying to pull back.

The black-haired killjoy’s hand with the gun has been hanging limp by his side but not anymore. The redhead stops struggling as the muzzle touches their forehead, glistening with what little of their saliva the desert heat hasn’t dried yet. Fun smirks and mockingly pats their hair before finally releasing his grip and allowing them to take his dick out of their mouth—only for a moment, though, before nudging it agains their face again, trailing the gun over their face, resting it between their eyes until they give in, lips wrapped around the shaft once more, bobbing their head up and down obediently. Fun’s smirks become tiny whimpers now, barely audible, his movements more erratic as he plants his hand in Party’s hair, edging them on, moving his hips in sync with them, thrusting into their mouth. They anxiously peek at the gun, loosely pointed at their head, as the thrusts become faster and deeper.

Another moan and Fun comes, trying to keep his sounds quiet as he pushes them down on his cock, spilling his load into their throat. Saliva and cum leak out of Party’s mouth as the other Killjoy pulls out of their mouth, strands of spit between their face and his dick. The man grins as he wipes his shaft clean on their face, spitting in their still open mouth for good measure before zipping up his pants and holstering his gun and motioning for them to swallow.

‘Come here, kitty’, Fun says, and his voice isn’t menacing anymore. He reaches down, giving Party a hand, pulling them up, into a hug and into a kiss, tasting himself on their tongue, before pulling away and producing a tissue from his pocket, carefully cleaning the cum and saliva off their face, brushing the fire truck red hair out of their forehead, wiping the tears away.

‘Was I good?’, Party murmurs against his lips as they pull him into a kiss again. Red hair brushes against black hair.

‘You were the best’, Fun breathes. ‘And I think you deserve to be rewarded for that tonight, hm?’

‘Ahem’.

At the sound of someone coughing, they jump apart, faces flushed red rivalling the redness of Party’s hair as they face the other two Killjoys, loaded with scavenged gear and bags of food from the gas station. Kobra Kid shoots them an amused look while Jet Star seems on the verge of a heart attack.

‘Aww not again, that what you two lovebirds call standing guard?’, Kobra jokes, nevertheless nervously surveying their surroundings. ‘Alright, where’s the car? Let’s get a move on, c’mon!’

Fun lets go of Party’s hand and takes the lead while the rest fall in line behind him, Jet Star and Kobra Kid carrying the loot and Party picking up their own raygun and guarding the back.

‘You, uhh, didn’t do anything weird out here, right?’, Jet nervously mumbles, his face equally flushed.

‘Nah’, Party grins. One day they’re gonna get caught, probably, and then Jet is totally gonna have a heart attack, they think, but then again, who cares? The aftermath is secondary, they’re alive now and here.

‘Nothing weird’, they reiterate. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

**Author's Note:**

> ‘The shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun’ but the shit is Party Poison and they're being done! I came up with the idea for this ages ago, started writing, got bored and quit. At some point, I mentioned it to an MCR stan on social media who enthusiastically (or sarcastically, who can tell, really) suggested I keep writing. A year later, I have no idea what they're doing nowadays (if you're reading this and know who you are, hi!), but lo and behold, I finished writing it.
> 
> I tagged Dubcon because the headcanon for this ficlet was Party and Fun having the kind of D/s thing going on (the terms ‘consensual non-consent’ or ‘meta-consent’ are sometimes used for this) where the sub gives the dom a blanket consent, 24/7. So while it appears to be Noncon for most of the fic, it's unclear how consensual it actually is. Please keep in mind that this is entirely fictional, these kinds of relationships are often frowned upon and very controversial in BDSM communities.
> 
> Comments are always highly appreciated! Even just a "I like this" goes a long way.


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